


That Which Changes

by lielabell



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-04
Updated: 2011-08-04
Packaged: 2017-10-27 07:26:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/293195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lielabell/pseuds/lielabell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Does the flap of a butterfly’s wings in Brazil set off a tornado in Texas?</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Which Changes

**Author's Note:**

> For iluvfanfics

****

That Which Changes

It all starts on the day that Draco finally beats Harry Potter to the Snitch.

It is a last minute pick up game between different Ministry departments, and Harry is off his game after hearing some particularly bad news about a case he is working on, but still. Draco grabs that little golden ball first. And his whole life changes as a result.

Afterwards there is a celebratory round of drinks down at the Leaky Cauldron. Draco is man of the hour, being bought round after round by his jubilant teammates. Harry, for his part, is off in a corner with a few of his mates, obviously moping, which just puts Draco in an even better mood.

Because how many times has that been him? Sitting on the sidelines, watching Harry being lifted onto shoulders and sprayed with Butterbeers? One hundred seventy three times. That's how many. Not that Draco is counting.

Although, to be fair, not all of those times involved hefting onto shoulders and copious amounts of vaguely alcoholic beverages. Some of them ended pretty unpleasantly for the Boy Who Never Lost. Not that Draco had taken any special pleasure in those times. Or any more pleasure than any healthy, normal young wizard who always, _always_ , came in second would take. And now it is his turn to shine. His moment in the sun. And Draco, he is bloody well basking in it.

And, yes, Draco is twenty-eight. And, yes, he should be a grown up now and beyond school boy grudges and the like. Truth be told, for the most part, he is. It's not like he _hates_ Harry any more or calls him nasty names or makes fun of him and his friends. It's just... He's never once won. Never. Part of him had accepted that he never would win. But now here he is, with that little golden beauty of a Snitch in his hand and his mates laughing and cheering and damn. It feels good.

Good enough for him to completely lose it and let it go to his head. Good enough for him to try and win something else he always thought of as Harry's. Something that breezes into the pub like she owns the place, her thick, long hair all twisted up in a sleek knot and her robes just this side of being too short to be worn to the office. A pretty little something named Ginny Weasley, who he's never before had the balls to do more than sneer at.

But today. Today is his day. Today, he won the battle to the Snitch. Today, Draco Malfoy finally mans up enough to make his move.

*

Ginny isn’t sure why she is here, pushing past drunk, middle-aged men to find the typical dark corner where Harry is waiting. She just figures it’s got something to do with the fact that old habits are hard to give up and Harry is the oldest habit Ginny’s got. So, for old habit’s sake, she kisses his cheek when she reaches his table, smiles as he introduces her to a group of strangers and says something about the pleasure involved in finally being able to put faces to names. But inside? Ginny’s counting the seconds until she can leave.

It's not that Harry's a terrible person or anything. He's not. In fact, he's a pretty great guy. He just happens to be a pretty great guy that Ginny doesn't want to marry. Or date. Or hang out with. He's just... not the one. Unfortunately for both of them, Ginny didn't realize that until three years into their relationship.

And even then it took Harry coming up to scratch for her to finally figure it out. Which made for a really awkward Christmas morning at The Burrow, since _everyone_ had been in on it and they had all expected her to shriek with joy and jump up and down and, you know, say yes. Instead she went white as a sheet, shook her head no and ran crying from the room. Not one of the better Christmas memories for the Weasley clan.

Still, her family was supportive and Harry, while hurt, had been understanding and now they are "just friends" and she sort of feels obligated to pop round when he owls to say that he's feeling kind of low.

Although, if she had known that he was "feeling low" because he somehow managed to not catch the Snitch for the first time in his life, she might not have bothered.

"Buck up," she says when the long faces get to be too much. "It happens to us all every now and then." Which, she has to admit, is not the best or most clever thing to say, but really. The world didn't end because Harry lost a game of Quidditch.

Harry nods glumly and his mates all make noises in agreement and Ginny knocks another five minutes off of the time she needs to wait before she can leave without being deemed horrid.

*

Draco's a little bit pissed. He knows this. But right now that doesn't seem to matter much. What matters is that Ginny Weasley, object of his affections since way back in his fifth year, is here. She's sitting over with Harry's lot, peeling a label off of her Butterbeer, which is as clear a sign as any that she's not enjoying herself and might be up for a little company. So Draco takes one more shot of courage and then swaggers his way over to her side.

But when he reaches her, he can’t quite figure out what to say, so he turns to Harry and gives him a slightly manic smile. "Potter!" he says a little too loudly as he claps the other man on the shoulder. "Good game, mate."

Harry looks at him like he's gone batty, which isn't really surprising, but musters up a smile and mutters something about the better man winning. The rest of his group agree half-heartedly before returning to their drinks. Ginny, Draco notices, never takes her eyes off of the bottle in her hands.

He watches her out of the corner of his eye, trying desperately to come up with something that won’t make him seem like a prat, but nothing comes to mind. So he says, "Let me buy you a round," to the table instead. Because at least then he has a reason to be standing there.

There is a much more enthusiastic response to that than to his opening gambit, and Draco can't help but grin as he flags the barkeep over.

A general atmosphere of forced cheer settles over the group while they down their drinks. A few conversations start and then quickly peter out. Then the glasses are all empty and people start trading knowing looks and staring at Draco expectantly, clearly wondering when he is going to shove off already. Draco contemplates ordering another round, but thinks it might be received much more skeptically than the first one. They aren't mates and there isn't any real reason for Draco to be treating them. Not when all he really wants to do is separate the ever lovely Miss Ginevra Weasley from the heard. So he takes his last gulp of his Firewhiskey and does just that.

"Ginny," he says, his voice cracking like he's thirteen again.

"Yes?"

He lifts a shoulder. "It's a little stuffy in here, yeah?"

Her eyes widen and she glances at Harry. "You know," she says hesitantly, "it is at that."

Draco grins. "What say you and me go out for a little air?"

"That would be brilliant," she replies, her eyes crinkling up at the corners as she smiles. "It was great seeing you, Harry," she says, pushing to her feet. She round the table and drops a friendly kiss on his cheek.

"Gin?" he asks, his face full of confusion.

She gives him a wink. "Be a love and tell my brother I'll pop round tomorrow, would you? He's been pestering me for a visit."

"I..." Harry shakes his head. "Will do, Gin. Be, erm, careful."

"Aren't I always?" she asks with a laugh, lacing her arm through Draco's.

Ginny waits until they are outside before disengaging her arm. "I have to admit, I came with you under false pretences."

"Wanted to get away from Potter and his lot?" Draco raises an eyebrow.

She nods and tucks an errant strand of hair behind her ear. "He's a dear, but…" Ginny trails off with a shrug.

"Well." Draco runs his thumb along his bottom lip. "I'm pleased no matter what your reasons. You're here with me now, aren't you? The rest will take care of itself."

"Confident, aren’t you?"

He smirks a bit. “Of course I am. Any witch would be thrilled to have this on her arm.”

She lifts her chin and gives him an appraising look. He grins in response, holding his arms out to the sides and doing a little turn. Ginny lets out an appreciative whistle. "Quite fit."

"Thank you, I try."

Ginny laughs. "Right then, where are we off to?"

"Any chance I can take you straight back to my place?"

She shakes her head. "Mr. Malfoy, I'm not that sort of girl."

“Didn’t think that you were,” he admits. “But you can’t blame a bloke for trying.”

“Course not,” Ginny shoots back, her voice filled with amusement. “Would have been offended if you didn’t.”

They end up going for coffee at a quaint little shop that Ginny's fond of, right in the heart of Muggle London. It's not a place that Draco would ever have thought to frequent, but he has to admit that he's more than pleased to be there. The music is soft, the decor inviting and the coffee far surpasses his expectations.

Before he knows it, two hours have passed and Ginny is standing, offering her regrets. Draco isn't sure what motivates him, if it's the years old crush or the way the moonlight is playing on her hair, but he wraps his arms around her and pulls her in a for a kiss.

She's tense at first, clearly as surprised by his move as he is, but soon she's loosening up, kissing him back. Her hands come up to tangle in his hair, her body presses even closer to his, and it's only the sudden wolf whistle that breaks them apart.

"I'll come 'round?" he asks, hoping she'll say yes.

Ginny nods. "After a kiss like that, you'd better."

*

The questions start immediately. From her friends, coworkers and family. It's a never ending supply of "so who's this then?" and "what, exactly, are his intentions?" which leaves Ginny flustered and not at all able to answer to anyone’s satisfaction. Because she doesn't know how to explain things to _herself_ , let alone anyone else.

All she knows is that he's wonderful, thoughtful, brilliant in every way. His kisses leave her knees weak and his smile makes her heart flutter wildly in her chest. She's never been in a relationship that has made her feel like this before, happy and like life is full of endless possibilities.

But, well, it's not your typical relationship either. They aren't dating, per se, but they aren't exactly single either. There are no firm expectation on either side, as far as Ginny can tell, just a general sort of acceptance that they prefer to be with each other than with anyone else.

And she is completely fine with that. She's content to take things slow, let them play out however they see fit without too much thought on her part. Because she's confident how it will end: with the two of them old and grey, bouncing great-grand-babies on their knees.

Unfortunately, the rest of her family is not quite of the same opinion. And, because they are a clever batch of hellions, they sic their best and their brightest on her: one Hermione Weasley.

*

"So," Hermione pins Ginny with one of her patented concerned looks. "What's this then? About you and Draco Malfoy?"

Ginny shrugs. "Not really sure myself, truth be told. He keeps popping around and asking me out for dinner or to the theater or drinks. Then we'll go do whatever it is he's got on the menu and have a laugh while doing it and then," she shrugs again. "We end up at his flat or mine. It's all very light and easy, actually. Just a bit of fun."

"A bit of fun?" Hermione purses her lips and pats Rose on the back until the baby burps. "There's a love," she coos at the infant, dropping kisses on her downy head. Then she shifts her attention back to Ginny and her expression goes hard. "I don't think it's such a wise idea to be having 'a bit of fun' with Draco Malfoy."

Ginny takes a sip of tea instead of saying what Hermione can do with her opinion. She picks a treat at random, takes a polite bite and then gushes, "These are absolutely fabulous biscuits!"

"Ginny." Hermione's tone is sharp and the baby starts to fuss. "Hush," she soothes, "Mummy's not cross with you, precious."

"It's your Auntie she's after," Ginny agrees, reaching out to cup the baby's head.

"Ginny," Hermione says again, this time her voice is all gentle chiding. She lets out a sigh and shakes her hear. "Does he make you happy?"

"Deliriously so," Ginny admits, her eyes going soft and a smile creeping onto her face. "He's the most amazing man I've ever met."

Hermione makes a small tsking sound in the back of her throat, but all she says is, "Then I'm happy for you."

Ginny squeezes her free hand. "Thank you."

"You should bring him round."

Ginny drops Hermione's hand like she's got the plague. "What? Are you mad? Do you know what my brothers would do to him?"

"If you love him," Hermione starts but Ginny cuts her off with a sharp shake of the head.

"It's not like that. I told you, it's very light between us. Nothing serious. Just, you know, enjoying each other's company. Bringing him home to meet Mum and Dad and the boys," she shakes her head again. "That would ruin everything."

Hermione's eyebrows shoot up. "I see," she says as she reaches for a biscuit of her own. She nibbles on the edge for a bit, dissatisfaction clear on her face, but thankfully she doesn't feel the need to say anything.

*

"So," Draco says that evening, "how did the inquisition go?"

Ginny gives him a bright smile. "Not bad at all," she answers, but her smile doesn't quite reach her eyes.

"Gin?" He moves across the room, wraps his arm around her waist and pulls her into him. She melts in his arms, lifting her face for a mind-shattering kiss. "Don't think you can distract me," he says a bit breathlessly when it is over. "Out with it."

She ducks her head, tucking her chin into his shoulder and resting her cheek on his chest. "They always want answers that I can't give them," she says softly.

"Oh?" He drops a kiss on the crown of her head. "Answers to what?"

She sighs. "What the future holds." She pushes away and pads over to the sofa.

"What does the future hold?" he asks, trailing in her wake.

Ginny gives him an incredulous look. "And how do you expect me to be able to answer that? You know how things stand between us. Nothing too serious, nothing set in stone."

He grins, slipping the tip of his finger into his pocket, touching the top of the box hidden there. "And what would your response be if I told you that serious is exactly what I want to be?"

She gapes at him.

"How do you feel about a trip to the States," he asks, pulling the small box out of his pocket. He flips it open and studies the ring inside for a moment before holding it out to her.

"Draco?" Her voice is almost a whisper.

"I heard a rumor that Muggles can get married in ten minutes in Las Vegas. What do you say to finding out the truth of that?"

Ginny makes a choked sound, her eyes swimming with tears. "Are you sure?" she says at last, her fingers trembling as she takes the box from his hand. "It's only been three months."

"Yes, and I've been walking around with this bloody thing in my pocket for the last two of them."

She lets out a shaky laugh. "Two months? And you haven't breathed a word?"

"I was waiting for the moment to be right," Draco says, although really he was just waiting until he was sure she wouldn't say no.

Ginny beams at him, her face practically glowing, and Draco's heart stutters at the sight. "Silly man," she says as she slips the ring onto her finger. "We could have been married ages ago."

*

The next week Ginny shows up to Sunday dinner with Draco in tow. Her family is, of course, completely caught off guard, and that is just the way Ginny wants it. Her unruly assortment of brothers have no tricks up their sleeve, and she knows that they will be forced into polite behavior by their mother's gimlet eye.

The inevitable questions, when they come, are light, not too prying at all. Everyone is clearly making an effort not to put any undue pressure on the pair, which is more than can be said for other first meetings of prospective spouses. And, thankfully, no one even notices the ring until they are all seated at the table for dinner.

"Good heavens," her mother breaths as Ginny reaches for the mashed parsnips. "Is that a ring on your left hand?"

Ginny grins and nods, glancing over at Draco who all but swells with pride.

"Ginevra Molly Weasley," Molly booms, "do you mean to tell me that you are engaged and didn't tell me?"

There is an explosion of congratulatory comments and then all conversation is swept away by her mother's raptures about planning her only daughter's wedding. Draco muffles a laugh with his napkin, his eyes dancing with mischief and unrepeated delight. Ginny kicks him under the table, but smiles sweetly at him.

"Actually, Mum," she says when her mother pauses for breath, "we've already done the deed, so to speak."

Molly Weasley's eyes narrow. "Done the deed?"

Ginny lifts a shoulder. "Did you know that Muggles can get married in ten minutes in Las Vegas?" she asks, then cocks her head to the side. "Although, in our case it was more like five."

Her mother splutters a bit at that, the wind clearly taken from her sails. George grins, looking from his mother to his sister and back again.

“Quality choice in husbands, Ginny,” George says, shooting her a thumbs up. “Anyone who can stop Mum in her tracks is a welcome addition. Now how’s about you take some of those parsnips already and pass the bowl down this end.”

*

It ends the way these things generally do: with a big party and, a few years down the line, two happy, smiling babies. Their life is filled with a plethora of smiles, a few unhappy tears, and a more wonderful memories than seems possible.

There is even a moment where Ginny and Draco, both gone grey and with faces lined with time, take turns bouncing great-grand-baby number three on their knees, just like Ginny imagined they would all those years before.

As for that Snitch, the only one that Draco ever manages to beat Harry to, the one that started it all, Draco has it mounted and framed. He keeps it on his bedside table next to a picture of him and Ginny on their wedding day.


End file.
